Trapped
by corneroffandom
Summary: A nightmare brings about some realizations.


A/N: RIP Paul Bearer. You will be missed.

It had been another long week. After suffering RKOs two nights in a row- one on steel steps, no less- Del Rio's body aches. All he wants is to sleep, but something is disrupting it, waking him up every few minutes. He finally gives up and rolls over, trying to figure out what has his attention, but... His dark eyes trail across the room, finally coming to a stop on the form of his sleeping ring announcer in the other bed, a frown crossing his face as he pulls himself up, the sheets pooling around his waist.

Ricardo's sleep is far from restful, the younger man's head flipping this way and that against his pillow. Sweat beads his skin and Del Rio's breath catches when he whimpers slightly, hands fumbling against the bedding. "No, no," he breathes, voice trembling in horror. "No, stop. Orton..."

Brow furrowing in confusion, he pulls himself free from the sheets and moves over to Ricardo's side, watching him for a moment as he struggles on, breathing rapid and shaky. Finally unable to wait any longer, he leans closer and rests a hand on his arm, shaking him slightly. "Ricardo. Ricardo!"

He comes to with a gasp and faint slaps at Alberto's arms as if trying to fend off attack. "No," he groans out before awareness returns to him, his eyes widening as he realizes he's fighting off his employer's attempts at helping him needlessly. "El Patron," he gasps out. "I... I..." He grips the older man's sleeve and tries to breath. "I... Lo siento."

Ignoring the apology, Alberto stares at him. "What's going on, Ricardo?" When the ring announcer says nothing for a few moments, he grows impatient. "You said Orton's name," he points out.

"I did?" His cheeks flush hot in the darkness and he looks away. "It was just a nightmare, it's nothing," he tries to insist. "I didn't mean to disrupt your sleep. Please, El Patron-"

Del Rio, too impatient to accept Ricardo's attempts at distracting him, shakes his head. "What were you dreaming, Ricardo? What about Orton?"

"It's nothing-" he repeats, only stopping when he sees the dawning look of annoyance on his employer's face. "I..."

"Just tell me," he insists, squinting at Ricardo. "Por favor."

He shakes his head, cheeks coloring as he stares at his hands. "I was back in that phone booth. I... I couldn't catch my breath. I..."

It seems to click with Del Rio and he winces. "Are you claustrophobic, Ricardo?" He knows immediately that he's right as the young man blanches and looks away, embarassment bleeding from him. "It's fine, amigo. It's nothing to be ashamed of, many are, correct?"

He hesitantly nods, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he peers at the older man. "Si, of course..."

Knowing that Ricardo won't want to sleep in case he should start feeling like he's being smothered again, or risk having yet another nightmare, Del Rio tugs at the sheets pooling around his waist, urging the ring announcer to get out of bed. "Come."

"Wha- what?"

"You can't sleep and I need some air. Unless you want to remain here?" He sees the fear in Ricardo's eyes at the very thought of being left alone after such a rough evening and ruthless nightmare, but doesn't ease his stance. The ring announcer needs to know that in the future, Del Rio can't help him unless he tells him what's going on, and this is the only way Alberto can think to ensure that it happens.

"No," he chokes out, quickly standing and joining Alberto at the doorway, his eyes darting back and forth anxiously. "I don't."

"Then let's go." Del Rio almost reconsiders when they arrive at the relatively small elevator, but Ricardo only swallows a bit before following him inside. He nudges him when he starts looking around fearfully at the walls surrounding them and shakes his head at him. "It's ok, just a moment longer."

Ricardo thinks he's never seen anything as beautiful as the hotel lobby once they finally get off of the elevator and Del Rio guides him over towards the windows, where there are couches and chairs set up overlooking the street. "Sit for a moment," he tells him quietly.

"Si." He is relieved to drop into the cushions and just relax, his eyes slipping closed as Del Rio ventures over to the front desk briefly.

"Here," he murmurs upon returning, pressing a cool bottle of water to the younger man's hands. Ricardo gasps, eyes shooting open as he grips at it, startled. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to scare you. Were you asleep?"

"No, I- I'm ok, I just wasn't expecting it." He stares at the water for a moment before looking up sheepishly. "Gracias." As Alberto sits down next to him, he opens the bottle and sips from it. "I'm sorry for disrupting your rest," he says after a little bit, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. "It wasn't my intention."

Alberto waves it off. "I wasn't asleep anyway," he admits. "Don't worry about it. As soon as you are more relaxed, we will both be able to sleep easier, si?"

"Si, I hope so." He almost smacks himself in the forehead after saying that but Del Rio doesn't seem to grow too concerned over it, just shifts a little next to him. He'd always been badly claustrophobic, without a true reason why. He'd never suffered any severe trauma that, to the best of his recollection, could explain it. He'd just always hated tight spaces, the feeling of being trapped. His life upon being hired by Del Rio had always been so busy that he'd not really been disturbed by such things for quite awhile, but something about Orton and that phone booth, tonight, had triggered it. It's a bit embarassing, but Del Rio handling it so calmly and smoothly is helping a great deal.

They watch as the quiet night passes before them, very few people out at this hour, but enough that Del Rio is able to amuse himself by mocking a fair few of them. The tension fades away, breaks completely when he's in the process of commenting on a teenager's ridiculous haircut when said teenager enters the establishment and gets behind the front desk, preparing for his shift. Ricardo's eyes widen as Alberto freezes midword and hits his head on the back of the couch cushions. "Ay carumba," he grouses. "I suppose he'll be handling our breakfast order as well."

The ring announcer chuckles slightly. "I suppose so, El Patron." They sit there for awhile longer until Alberto looks over and notes how slowly Ricardo is now blinking, his breathing steadily evening out like he might fall asleep on the couch right then and there.

"Want to return to the room, try to sleep again?"

"Si, I do," he murmurs tiredly, trying to stand and failing as he only seems to sink further into the couch with each movement, his need for sleep overwhelming everything else. Alberto tsks slightly before leaning over, hooking an arm under Ricardo's and helping him up carefully. Once he's on his feet, he comes to slightly and blinks. "Oh. Gracias."

"Can you make it to the room now?" Del Rio asks, faintly frowning as they begin walking slowly to the elevators, Ricardo still obviously half asleep.

"Si, El Patron, I can." And he does, somehow. Eyes shut lightly, lips parted just enough to show his teeth, as he trusts Alberto to guide him back up to their room, he remains on his feet the whole way to the elevator, the whole trip upstairs, and even the long walk down the hallway to their door.

Both men are beyond relieved once they're back inside and Alberto eases him over to the bed, watching as he buries himself under the sheets with a small smile on his lips. "Rest well, Ricardo."

"And you, El Patron," he says softly before finally falling into a deep, restful sleep. To both of their relief, the nightmares stay away for the rest of the night.


End file.
